A Dream (partial)

This has not been one of my better weeks. Between the stress of the work situation, the cold I try to rationalize away, and the eczema flare-up (my neck is raw--aaarrgggh) lopped atop my already wonky sleep pattern, well, let's just say, tired, cranky, somewhat un-focused has been the order of the days.

Additionally, there have been dreams. Or rather, snippets of dreams. Or more accurately, I'm only remembering the snippets of some of the dreams. As in:

My daughter was nine or ten and apparently, my only child. We were living in a house that looked very much like the rental my family lived at one point during my own childhood.

It was a sunny day, and daughter yelled that she was going outside to play and taking her bike. I heard her struggle to pull the bike from a front closet, and then the screen door slam shut. Making my way to the front to latch the door, annoyed by the sight of her toddler bike sitting in the middle of the hall--a constant reminder that she's older and that bike should be given away, as it is taking up room we don't have--I hear noises on the porch.

Curious, but a bit alarmed, I rush to latch the screen door. The man with two small children, gender indeterminate, appear to be deciding who should knock--when they realize, as one, that knocking isn't necessary.

Addressing the man, I ask, "may I help you?" He begins to talk while at the same time, reaching for the door. Though re-latched, he begins to pull on the door. I ask them all to please leave my porch. The children sit down while the man continues to pull on the door. I know it will give soon, so I yell, "PLEASE LEAVE or I'll call the police", as I move to close the wooden door.

In the next moment, the man was inside the house pleading, "please, let's just have some fun." The children remained seated on the porch. I ask the man again to please leave. He responded to my request by beginning to dance. Well, not dancing so much as . . . performing, or rather, exercising.

Ala, Hip-Hop Abs.

Then, I'm awake with a cat (the orange one) on my chest.